Singin' in the Drain
Page 7
‘BYE-BYE, BUNTY!’ Neville called. He was having so much fun he’d almost forgotten about Abominatia.
‘WHAT NOW?’ Rubella asked.
‘You’ve got a prince to catch,’ Neville said.
‘Oh yeah!’ Rubella replied with a grin. ‘But not before I deal with ole skinny ribs.’ Then she dived off the platform, straight down through the trapdoor after Gruntilda.
Neville watched his troll-sister go, then turned to climb down the ladder. But something stopped him in his tracks and he instantly felt a cold sweat break out across the back of his neck.
‘UUUUUURRRRGGGHHHHHH!’
Abominatia screeched as she tore along the platform towards him with her twiggy claws outstretched.
‘AAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEGGGHHHHH!’
Neville tried to duck out of the way, but Abominatia was too fast and she grabbed hold of him. ‘I’LL PULL YOUR UGLY LITTLE HEAD OFF!’ she screamed. ‘I’LL SNAP YOUR – EEEEEEK!’
Abominatia tripped on the coil of Gristle’s furry bog-mother rope and wobbled towards the edge. Before she could steady herself, she tumbled over the railing and dragged Neville with her.
The Tremundous Hinka-Hurl
Abominatia and Neville plummeted towards the stage, screaming like a pair of banshees.
‘GET OFF!’ Neville hollered as he saw the ground rushing up to meet them.
‘OH, POOOOOOOOK!’ He scrunched his eyes and braced himself for a painful landing. But –
TWANG-ANG-ANG-ANG!
The rope that Abominatia had tripped on was now caught round her ankle, and the pair swung across the stage just before hitting the floor.
‘LET GO!’ Neville yelled as he managed to shove two fingers up Abominatia’s nostrils and wiggle them around.
‘Puhh! ’ she snorted. ‘Puhh! ’ She thrashed her arms about and suddenly let Neville shoot out of her grip as she scratched at the open air. ‘I’M GOIN’ TO SPLAT YOU!’
A large, round-shouldered troll in the audience jumped out of her seat, spat out a mouthful of rat patty and bellowed, ‘THAT’S MY NEV!’
It was Malaria. She hurdled over the seats in front of her and scrambled towards the stage at breakneck speed. ‘I’M COMIN’!’
Neville couldn’t focus on anything while spinning through the air. He felt like a rag doll in a washing machine as the lights and the audience and stage and the curtains all whizzed past him again and again.
‘I’VE GOT YOU, NEV!’ Malaria bounded on to the stage and caught Neville with a grunt. For a moment he thought Abominatia had got him again, until Malaria squeezed him in a big troll-hug and kissed him on the head.
‘MOOMA!’ Neville shouted. He’d never felt so relieved.
‘What’s goin’ on, Nev?’ Malaria asked, putting him down on the floor. ‘All this globbergruntin’ and all?’
Neville staggered over to where Abominatia was hanging upside down above the stage, growling and scrabbling.
‘This is Abominatia Bunt,’ Neville shouted to the audience.
‘Shut up, you little pile of slurch spit,’ she hissed, swiping her arms at Neville.
‘Oy!’ said Malaria. ‘You watch those nasty words or I’ll stuff your gobber up with that ivy of yours.’
‘Yeah,’ Rubella joined in. She suddenly clambered out of the trapdoor wearing Gruntilda’s ballgown. The audience cried in alarm. There were rips down the sides and her gut oozed out like a burst icing bag. ‘WHY DON’T YOU TRY PICKIN’ ON ME?’
‘GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU BULCH!’ Abominatia blurted.
‘She,’ Neville continued, ‘is a liar, a cheat and a bully! She hid the audition scorecards and took the part of the grumptious stepsister away from Rubella Bulch.’
The audience gasped.
‘BELLY?’ Malaria shouted. ‘MY BELLY, A PRINCESS?’
‘Gonker!’ Neville said and pointed at Abominatia.
The audience umm-ed and ooh-ed.
‘NO, I’M NOT … I’M AN ARTSY, SHOWBIZZLY BRAINY-BONK AND MY DAUGHTER IS WONDEROUS!’
‘You’re a fuzzbonk,’ came a voice from behind. Everyone turned to see Halitosis step through the curtain with her team of hinkapoots following in a line behind. ‘My hinkapoots told me everything … YOU’RE A BIG, UGGISH GONKER AND … AND … YOUR DAUGHTER SINGS LIKE A STRANGLED SLURCH!’
‘THAT’S IT!’ Abominatia shouted at Halitosis. ‘YOU AND YOUR DISGUSTEROUS DANCIN’ BOGEYS WILL NEVER WORK IN THIS THEATRE AGAIN … THE SAME GOES FOR THE REST OF YOU AS WELL!’
‘Who cares?’ Dunk growled, stepping on from the other side of the stage. He brandished a large spanner and frowned at Abominatia.
The upside-down troll-lady looked suddenly nervous.
‘You always made my life miserous,’ added Mucus as he leapt out from behind a curtain, spun, flipped and struck a pose.
Abominatia snarled at her assistant. ‘YOU MADE YOUR OWN LIFE MISEROUS, YOU –’
‘JUST SHUT UP!’ came a voice.
Everyone looked about.
‘Who said that?’ snapped Abominatia.
‘I did.’ Gruntilda clambered up through the trapdoor in her underwear and stood there with her hands on her scrawny hips.
‘WHAT DID YOU SAY?’ Abominatia looked stunned beyond belief.
‘I said Shut up, Moomsie!’
Gruntilda walked over to where Abominatia was hanging and poked the end of her nose. ‘I’m not a dungle, Moomsie! I know I can’t sing, but d’you know what? NEITHER CAN YOU! I’ve heard you in the kitchen … YOU SOUND LIKE A STRANGLED SLURCH TOO!’
‘YOU REVOLTIN’, TWIGGISH –’ Abominatia kicked her legs wildly and snapped free of the rope. She clattered to the floor, but was instantly back on her feet, drooling and snarling like a monster at the circle that had gathered round.
‘I’M GOIN’ TO FEED EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU TO MY HAIR!’ she bellowed as her flytraps gnashed viciously.
‘Oh, no you won’t,’ Halitosis shouted.
‘Oh, yes she will!’ the audience yelled back.
‘I don’t think so.’ A smile spread across Halitosis’s round face. ‘I THINK IT’S TIME FOR THE TREMUNDOUS HINKA-HURL!’ She tapped her stick three times on the ground and the hinkapoots sprang into action.
Neville sighed … Grimble wasn’t with the others.
‘Errghh! What are they doin’?’ Abominatia squirmed as they crawled up her legs and clambered round her dress. ‘Get them off me!’
‘HINKA-HURL!’ Halitosis shouted and did another strange hand gesture.
‘CHIK-CHI-CHI-CHIK-CHIK!’
The hinkapoots quickly climbed into a tall tower formation, one on top of another, and grabbed Abominatia. Then, in one super-quick action, they spun her up and up, one hand then the next hand, faster and faster, twisting and turning, and then …
‘NO!’ Abominatia bawled. ‘YOU CAN’T DO THIS … I’M SO TALENTY!’
The hinkapoots hurled Abominatia at the ceiling as if she was as light as a dungle’s dandruff. She shot skywards and arched across the theatre, shrieking and howling until SMAAAAASSSSHHHH! – she rocketed straight through the roof.
‘Bye-bye, Moomsie,’ Gruntilda chuckled to herself.
There was a long silence. The audience sat there with wide eyes and shocked expressions.
Thicket, who had been watching from the side of the stage, shuffled towards Gruntilda and looked at her in her scrawny pantybloomers.
‘I just wanted to say …’ Thicket began, taking Gruntilda’s hands.
Neville felt his heart sink. Poor Rubella.
‘I just wanted to say – PAAAAA! HA-HA-HAA!’
Thicket pointed at Gruntilda and hopped from foot to foot. ‘I CAN SEE YOUR KNICKSIES!’ Then he turned to Rubella, winked and walked offstage.
Gruntilda screamed and dived back down through the trapdoor in floods of tears. ‘AAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEGGGHHHH!’
Neville looked at Rubella. She was starting to turn that same pink colour she had turned before.
‘Are you all right, Belly?’
asked Malaria. ‘You’re lookin’ a bit … erm … rosy.’
‘He … h-he …’ stammered Rubella, ‘… winked at me.’ Then she swooned in a heap on the floor. THUUUDDD!
‘WOOOOO!’
Clod leapt to his feet and started clapping and jumping riotously. ‘THAT WAS THE MOST INCREDIBUMP SHOW I’VE EVER SEEN … I … I … CAN’T BELIEVE IT.’
Other trolls began to join in and, before long, there was a huge standing ovation. Everyone onstage nervously hobbled forward and took a bow.
‘How squibbly,’ Malaria whispered to Neville. ‘I feel all famously.’
But Neville didn’t feel famously. He felt dreadful. Walking over to Halitosis, he put a hand on her arm and hung his head.
‘Grimble didn’t come back, did he?’ Neville asked, his bottom lip trembling.
‘No,’ Halitosis said.
‘I’m so sorry,’ blurted Neville. ‘I tried to catch him, I really did.’
Halitosis put her arm round Neville and hugged him.
‘Don’t worry about Grimble,’ she said. ‘He’s greedier than a gundiskump. He’ll show up when he gets hungry, I promise.’ Then she pulled Neville to the front of the stage with the rest of her Hinka-circus and took a bow.
After the clapping died down, the audience shuffled out through the rows of chairs and headed for the exits, mumbling in shock and disbelief.
All except Clod.
‘I’M FLABBERGUSTISH! I’M BUNGLED IN MY BONCE, I AM! THAT WAS THE BEST ACTIN’ IN THE WHOLE OF THE UNDERNEATH … WHOPPSY!’
He sat in the middle of a row with Pong on his knee and bounced him joyously up and down.
‘CAN WE COME AGAIN TOMORROW?’ Clod shouted to his family onstage.
Suddenly, Rubella jumped back on to her big sweaty feet.
‘NOT ON YOUR NELLY!’ she shouted.
Back at Home
Neville shot out of the toilet and rolled on to the bath mat with a bump. He lay there for a minute, panting, then hauled himself up and crept silently into the hall.
‘Hello?’ he whispered. ‘Hello?’
With a sigh of relief, Neville realized his mum and dad were asleep in bed. The whole weekend had passed, but they probably hadn’t even noticed he’d been gone at all.
He ran along the hall on tiptoes, opened his bedroom door and slipped inside.
‘Well, that was different,’ he mumbled to himself as he looked about the room. It was good to see his toys and books again.
Tiptoeing across the room, he pulled off his backpack and dumped it on the bed.
‘CHIK-CHI-CHI-CHIK-CHIK-CHIK!’
Neville froze. The backpack jiggled, then went very still.
‘Please, no … no … no,’ he whispered.
Creeping closer, Neville very slowly unzipped the bag and opened the top pocket.
‘CHIK-CHI-CHIK!’
A pair of long green ears poked out, followed by a little hand and a smiling green face.
Neville looked down at Grimble …
‘Oh, pook!’ he said … then before he could stop himself … Neville grinned a big jiggish type of grin.
Well, boogle my bumly bits, that were an exciterous adventure. I was completely flabbergusted! Now you’ve reached the end of another whoppsy big Wrong Pong adventure, I’d say it’s about time you brushed up on your Trollish. Try these words out on any passing trolls you meet …
Amatrolls Amateurs
Amazerous Amazing
Barrelina A fat ballerina
Beauty-beamer A beautiful princessy-type troll
Blunkin’ Bloomin’
Bungly Really big
Chattywag A good ole gossip
Chooney-chuff An amazing singer
Chuffly Proud
Congruntulations Congratulations
Dainty-dinklet Something very delicate
Dunkling Darling
Expectorating Expecting
Fibbers Lies
Flabbergusted Shocked
Globbergrunting Causing a commotion
Grabbers Hands
Grizzly-gripe Moan
Grubberlumper A big fat liar
Grumptious Gorgeous
Heart-hobbling Heart-stopping and exciting
Hinkapoot A scrawny green circus animal
Honker Something lovely or a loved one
Honkhumptious Absolutely wonderful
Hoop-di-doo-cious Famous
Humdifferous Spectacular
Incredibump Incredible
Jangled Scared
Jumbly-Jennifer A lovely lady
Noggin Your head
Nonkumbumps Nonsense
Overwhelped Overwhelmed
Pan-troll-mime Pantomime for trolls
Peepers Eyes
Plonkless Speechless
‘Popped me conkers’ Died
Rampageous Destructive
Razzly Sparkly and glitzy
Rottler A horrible little pest
Scrawnets Huge insects with glowing, purple stripes
Skunkus Smelly
Skwarker A loud, screamy thing
Smoochery Romantic
Snizzler A sleeping person
Snizzling What a snizzler does best
Toughly Difficult
Whingerella The troll Cinderella
Whoppsiest Biggest
Winky Short
Wonksome Wonky and out of balance
Worry-warting Panicking
Here’s a few belly-bungling jokie-poos to keep you chuckling for yearlies to come. Hold on to your pantybloomers …
Q. Why is Whingerella bad at playing football?
A. Because she keeps running away from the ball!
Q. Why is Gruntilda Bunt like one of Alopecia Grubber’s delumpcious moss cakes?
A. Because her singing is so crumby!
Q. What do you call Rubella in her tutu?
A. Stuck!
Q. What is a scrawnet’s favourite ballet?
A. Swarm lake!
Q. What did Grimble the Hinkapoot say to Neville’s nose?
A. It’s been nice gnawing you!
Take a peeky at these troll shows and songs and see if you can come up with any of your own.
Mucus’s Dancing song
Pointy toes and bendsie knees
And twirly-whirly tooters, please.
You have to tap your feet in time
To make it in the pan-troll-mime.
I’ve seen them flock to come and dance.
I’ve watched them thrash and thud and prance.
But only a selecty few
Can make the grade and make it through.
And then the big rehearsals start.
I teach them how to dip and dart.
Some call it dance … I call it ART!
And when the whoppsy curtains part …
My ballerinas jump and slide
And float and soar and leap and glide.
And all the crowds, they yell and scream
Humdifferized by what they’ve seen!
So twinkly toes and flexy knees
And grumptious ballerinas, please.
You have to jiggle right on time
To make it in my pan-troll-mime …
DON’T MISS NEVILLE’S
FIRST ADVENTURE
UNDERNEATH …
AND ENJOY THE TROLLS’
HILARIOUS VISIT TO
THE OVERLINGS!
JOIN NEVILLE AND THE
TROLLS IN A SWASHBUNGLING
ADVENTURE ON THE
HIGH SEAS …
PUFFIN BOOKS
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
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First published 2012
Text Copyright © Steven Butler, 2012
Illustrations copyright © Chris Fisher, 2012
Cover illustration by Chris Fisher
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
ISBN: 978-0-14-134238-2